


Paper Houses

by Wolfyzheart



Category: All Time Low, jalex - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfyzheart/pseuds/Wolfyzheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being led to believe the love of his life was dead for two years, Jack's parents tell Alex that everything he thought was wrong. They had been hiding Jack from him, to protect Alex from the truth that Jack had no memories after the eighth grade. He no longer loved Alex. He was in love with someone else, and he did not remember Alex in the slightest. But Alex is on a mission to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You have to promise me you’ll be careful.” I whispered, placing my hands on my boyfriend’s chest. I loved having any sort of contact with Jack, especially when we were having serious conversations like these. His touch was relaxing and got rid of any stress I may have talking to him about important topics.  
Jack’s hands found their way around my waist and he used them to pull me closer so we were pressed tightly to one another, the touch bringing warmth throughout my body and the relaxing feeling that overcame my tense body. I heard a soft chuckle escape from the younger boy’s lips, and I pouted a little as I looked up at him, our brown eyes meeting each other’s.  
“Come on, Lex. I’ll only be gone for three days. Don’t worry.” Jack shook his head, amusement showing through his bright eyes and curved lips. He was smiling like the idiot he was. And my God, could his smile light up a room.  
At first, I was frustrated he was not taking me seriously, but then, I realized I was relieved. It was a good thing he found my anxiety so entertaining, because conversations like these had quite the frequent occurrence. I was always on his back about being careful and not doing anything stupid, but I couldn’t say my anxiety isn’t justified. Jack has done some pretty stupid things in the past.  
I have seen Jack single-handedly manage to get himself caught in a tree, and this incident did not happen even a year ago. We were out at the local park, flying a kite, figuring it’d be a cute date. It wasn’t a windy day, but the wind happened to blow just a little too hard, causing me to lose control of the kite, and the little dragon ended up in the branches. I was upset because I had that kite since I was little, but I didn’t expect Jack to try to retrieve it for me. I told him numerous times not to try to climb the tree, but Jack is...well, Jack.  
I ended up having to drive my car up to the trunk of the tree so he could jump down onto its roof. We laughed it off over coffee later when a police officer scolded us for driving onto the grass and being so idiotic to climb a tree. He kicked us out of the park and told us to never go back. I think he wrote down my license plate number, too.  
If thats not proof enough of Jack’s recklessness, I’ve also witnessed Jack falling through ice at a local pond that specifically had a hundred signs posted “DANGER: No ice skating”. Jack claimed he used to take ice skating lessons and wanted to show off his moves, despite my many protests. He caught a horrible cold from falling into the freezing water, and I had to nurse him back to health for a week following.  
I could go on, but long story short, Jack was not one to make the wisest of decisions. All of these times, though, I was always there to take care of him, and it made me nervous I couldn’t be this weekend.  
“You know how I get when I can’t be there to watch you.” I objected, but there was a smile on my face as I protested. I knew I was being overprotective, and I knew Jack’s parents could very well handle him, as they have been for 19 years, but I couldn’t help myself sometimes.  
“I’ll be back on Monday. Relax, love.” Jack planted a quick kiss on the top of my head and pulled me even closer. I knew he had sensed my crazy nerves by this point, and this embrace was exactly what I needed. I smiled and inhaled heavily as I pressed my face into the crook of his neck. Jack carried a specific scent I just adored. It was mostly the scent of axe, but it had its own Jack flair to it. I couldn’t tell you what it was, nor could I explain it, but just know, it’s an amazing, comforting smell. If I could capture it and put it in a candle, I would. It’d be a bestseller, I think, or maybe it’s just me.  
“You know, skinny jeans aren’t the best to wear while camping.” I teased when I stepped away and broke the hug, my eyes scanning down the boy’s figure. He was wearing his usual black skinny jeans (and when I say skinny, I mean skinny. I was surprised he could get those things on). They were complemented with a Blink-182 T-shirt and a snapback that had the Green Day logo on it. This horrible camping outfit was not comforting. My God, he could be such a dork.  
“I do what I want.” Jack’s face broke into a grin as he looked down at his outfit. He was so proud of being the way he was, and I admired him so much for it. I had to give him credit, he really did do what he wanted. Even if someone didn’t like it, he stayed true to himself. “I have to look punk wherever I go. It’s a curse.” He added, grabbing the front of his hat and sliding it to the back of his head so the snapback was now backwards. He threw up a peace sign and stuck his tongue out.  
I shook my head with a giggle. “You’re ridiculous.” I muttered, but I was still smiling. He was such a doofus, my God.  
“I love you too.” Jack ruffled the hair on top of my head playfully, letting out a soft chuckle as he did so.  
I responded with a giggle myself, my lips curving upward into a smile. Whenever Jack said ‘I love you’ my heart turned to mush. We were nearing a year of dating and I still felt this way. I just didn’t think the ‘I love yous’ would ever get old. We have been friends for five years, and I had crushed on him for a year and a half before we were official. All of our past had built up all these emotions, and made our bond as strong and unbreakable as it was. I suppose it also contributed to my separation anxiety.  
I leaned up on my tip toes to peck him on the cheek one last time. “I love you so much.” I rubbed his shoulder and looked at him affectionately before I stepped back a little. It was time to part, it was getting late. “See you Monday.” I purred, giving him a small wave.  
“Monday. Don’t forget it.” Jack grinned and stepped away towards his car with a smile, causing me to forget about how worried I was for a moment. I mean, Jack could take care of himself, I knew he could. As reckless and crazy as he was, I knew he was a strong individual, and I needed to stop worrying about him and let him go off and do things without me. Besides, he was going with his family. But sometimes I just worried about Jack because I was a chronic worrier. I came to terms with that. And I think Jack did, too.  
“See you Monday, Jacky.” I repeated to myself. The day of our one year. How could I forget? We had been counting down the days for months now, and it was crazy how close it was getting. Jack’s parents had hoped to camp again Monday night, but Jack told them there was no way in hell he would miss such an important day with me.  
I smiled as I watched Jack drive away, and I couldn’t stop smiling as I turned away from the street and headed back into my apartment. This boy made me so giddy. My God, I couldn’t wait for Monday.  
I would later find out Monday was a day I should have never looked forward to.


	2. Chapter 1

They never held a funeral or memorial service for Jack.   
I don’t know if it’s because his parents invested so much money looking for him, or if they were in denial as much as I was, but either way, I was glad, because I did not want closure. I did not want to accept the fact he was dead. I did not want to be surrounded by people saying they were sorry for me, and how they couldn’t imagine how I felt. Funeral services always made me angry, because these people that hardly care show up and pretend they loved the individual like they were their first born or something, and it makes me sick that it takes death for people to recognize how much they miss someone.   
Some of Jack’s other friends-his ex Kellin for example- did not care in the slightest about Jack. But when they found out that Jack had disappeared, they were acting like they had been best friends with Jack for years, calling me up, crying, and saying how sorry they were for my loss and how great of a kid Jack was growing up. It was such bullshit. If they had done this to me in person, and not through the phone, I probably would have punched them in the face.

Today marks two years since the incident. Two years since I found out about Jack, on the day of our one year. I remember that day like it was yesterday.  
\--  
“Alex.” My mother’s tone was one of urgency, and I remember groaning as I woke from a deep sleep. I had dreamed of Jack, as per usual. He almost always was what I dreamed of. I loved him that much. I don’t remember much of the dream, as I didn’t have time to really remember it after waking up, but we were out on a cute date, mini golfing I think.  
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, feeling a little disoriented and groggy. The room was a bit of a blur and I couldn’t find where my mom was standing at first. When my eyes found her, I was surprised she was so close to my bed, and jumped from being startled. She never stood that close when she was waking me up. Unless.  
Unless something was wrong.  
“Hm?” I gazed at her, my eyes finally focusing on her, and I realized her eyes were watering. This was not looking good.  
“I need to tell you something very important, sweetheart.” Her voice was hushed, and I felt my stomach drop. The urgency in her voice proved that my predictions of bad news were correct, and I bit my lip nervously. I looked at her curiously, worried about what I was about to hear. Jack hadn’t crossed my mind though. I didn’t think it was Jack. I thought maybe my Grandmother was in the hospital, or Grandpa had passed away (he was on the brink at this point, he was suffering from alzheimer's.).   
It was a long moment before she could speak. It looked like she was struggling to tell me whatever it was, and finding the words was proving difficult. She let out a soft sigh before she let it out.  
“Jack has been missing in the woods since Friday.” Her voice cracked when she spoke. My stomach twisted in ways I never knew possible. But the first thing that went through my head was denial. I was not hearing this. This information was not true, I would wake up and everything would be fine. Jack was fine.   
“W-what?” I croaked. As the words sunk deeper and deeper into my head I felt myself begin to get dizzy, and I felt a sickness arouse within my stomach. I was starting to look out the doorway of my room and at the hallway, calculating the run to the bathroom, because I knew I was going to need to make a run for it soon.   
“Jack is missing. I’m so sorry Lex. They’ve been searching for him since Friday night when he disappeared off their campsite.” She repeated herself. These extra details I did not want to hear. This was not happening. This was not real.   
My mind became a hurricane of emotions, of questions, thoughts, memories...He could still be alive though, right? They hadn’t found his body. He could be out there...  
My face must have proven that the high probability of death hadn’t registered in my head, because she spoke up again. “It’s not looking good.” She added, her voice even softer now than it was before.   
It hit me like ton of bricks.  
I ran so fast to the bathroom, I hardly noticed I had been running. I threw up in the toilet, vomiting out more than just bile. I must have thrown up my emotions, my sanity, and my heart, because when I lifted my head from the toilet I felt a lack of all of those things.   
I was held my stomach with one hand, gripping the side of the toilet with the other, stifling a whimper of pain. It was probably all mental, but the pangs my stomach was enduring were like a thousand daggers being thrown at once into me. I felt like I was bleeding onto the floor, helplessly slipping away from consciousness. I felt like my life was ending. Like it was all over.   
“Honey!” My mom rushed to my side, pulling me into what I assumed must have been a hug that was supposed to comfort me. She should have saved her energy.   
I pushed her away, not caring if the shove upset her. Usually I was pretty considerate of my actions, especially towards my mom, but I was not now. I could only focus on my own emotions-- selfish, I know, but everyone has these moments where all that matters is them and their emotions. It’s what makes us human I guess.   
“How long did you know?” I said after a few moments of silence. My voice carried no hint of an emotion, and I did not even look at her. I was staring at the floor, as if I was staring a dead body. I was broken. My emotions were broken, my life was broken. I felt like a toy whose batteries had been taken out.   
“Since Saturday afternoon.” I could hear the shame behind her hushed words, but that didn’t stop me from feeling anger towards her. I did not care how sorry she was for not telling me before this moment. I felt betrayed. Sick. I don’t even know what else, because all the emotions were getting bottled to put on hold for later. Except for my anger.   
Looking back, I probably should have been grateful she was trying to be there for me to comfort me. She waited until they really did not think they’d find Jack. She even took off of work that day so she could be with me. But I wasn’t having it. My asshole side got the best of me.   
If you read this mom, I am sorry about this.  
I stood up from where I was sitting and looked at her, my eyes blazing with anger. She was all I had to take it out on. “Fuck you.” was the lame response I said to her as I stormed out of the bathroom. I remember she was calling my name, I think she was even crying as she followed me, But I left the house and slammed the door in her face. She probably opened up the door to run after me, but within seconds I was sprinting, Sprinting down the streets of Baltimore like some madman, as if I just robbed a bank or something. But I had not a single item on me. Not my phone, not my wallet, nothing. Just me. I was a fit individual, so there was no way my mom could have ran after me.  
I ran to our spot. The spot Jack and I spent so many hours in. I ran to this weird dark ally I loved, because no one ever went there, except for Jack and me. I slowed my pace as I reached the alley.   
I fell to my knees.“I need you.” I choked out over my tears as I cried. My entire body gave way and I sunk to the pavement, letting my cheek fall against the cool cement of the empty sidewalk.   
\--  
I toss aside my third bottle of beer into the pile I have been building next to me these past few hours and grab a fourth. This is exactly how I spent last year’s anniversary of Jack’s disappearance-- Laying in bed with a six pack, watching Bob’s Burgers. Only difference is this year, I am now legal to drink so I have nothing to hide, and more to drink.   
Not that this is much different than I spend my usual days. I admit, I have a problem with alcohol, but I have no motivation to get better. I have no reason to live until I’m old.  
I started drinking to help with the pain, I remember Jack and I used to do this all the time. Anytime shit hit the fan, we would get drunk and spend the night together, and everything was okay in those moments. I had him, he had me, and that was all that mattered.   
But alcohol is no longer offering me much relief from the pain I feel, and I’m starting to think we wouldn’t have needed alcohol to forget about our lives, we really just needed each other in those moments.   
Alcohol did pretty much nothing for me in terms of my depression. It was probably making things worse, and I only do it now because I can’t stop, and I guess you could say I have a death wish of a sorts.  
I finish my fourth bottle in probably a record time, grabbing my fifth and frowning because I’ll have to go get another pack of beer soon.   
I hardly get the cap off when my door swings open, and I nearly spill the beer all over myself. It takes me by such surprise, because no one ever barges in, and I know it cannot be my mom because she knocks. I peer over to see Rian, his eyes falling onto the bottle in my hand. His face floods with a look of concern.   
“You need to stop with this drinking man. I thought you said you’d stop.” He shakes his head with disappointment, it makes me feel a little guilty. He steps over my piles upon piles of laundry and empty beer bottles as he makes his way towards me, and it is only through that I noticed how disgusting my room has gotten. I haven’t cleaned it in two years.   
Rian takes a seat on my bed and looks at me. His face has worry written all over it, and I almost want to hand him the beer bottle just to get the look off his face, because it’s making me feel guilty as hell. But I guess that his worry is pretty understandable. Seeing your best friend destroy himself is not exactly something that makes you feel good.  
“I do what I want.” I respond by quoting one of Jack’s favorite lines as I go to take another sip. Rian, being the killjoy he is, grabs the bottle before it reaches my lips and pulls it away, looking me dead in the eyes. I haven’t seen him look so serious and stern ever before, it sends a few chills down my spine. “Alex. Enough.”   
I do not even want him here. I feel guilty, yes, but I feel more frustration than anything else. This isn't fair. He can’t just come in here on this horrible day and expect me not to drink.   
“Leave me alone.” I mumble, trying to pull the bottle out of Rian’s grasp, but it is no use. Rian is significantly stronger than me. I had lost most of my athletic abilities (and body) during these years.  
“Alexander William Gaskarth.” Rian’s voice raises and I hate when people call me by my full name, so I finally let go of the bottle, giving Rian a disappointed look. I didn’t want him to start yelling, but shit, he was killing me here.  
“Thank you.” He says sweetly, and it makes me want to hit him or something, because he was just mad at me two seconds ago. I give him a glare when he puts the bottle aside on the end table, and I resist the urge to reach for it again. I know that would end in a shit storm.   
“Why are you here?” I say, my anger and frustration showing through my voice and my narrowing eyes. He was frustrating me to high holy hell.  
“Jeez, what a way to greet your best friend. So moody.” Rian mumbles, rolling his eyes. So now he was going to be bitter with me. Mad, then nice, and now all bitter like this. And I was the one with the mood swings?   
“You came barging in here telling me what to do. What do you expect?” I snap back. I feel kind of guilty, because I know he does it because he cares, but seriously. I do not want the help. That should be obvious with how many times I’ve ignored his calls today. Then again, thats probably why he ended up here anyway.  
“I came to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Rian explains, crossing his arms. “Like you usually do. You didn’t answer any of my calls. You worried me.”  
I couldn’t blame him there, I did my fair share of absolutely stupid things. Especially when I first found out Jack was missing.  
\--  
“Alex?” I felt Rian’s hands against my shoulders, nudging them gently.  
I realized I must have fallen asleep in the alleyway, and I had no idea for how long. But if Rian had gone looking for me, it must have been for a decent amount of time.  
“Tell me it’s a dream.” Was the first thing I said when I looked at him. My eyes were watering again. I was so desperate. Desperate for someone to say ‘we found Jack’ or ‘You were dreaming’. I couldn’t be without him. I couldn’t.  
“Lex, I’m so sorry.” He tried to hug me, but just like my mom, I wasn’t having it. I stood up and stepped away before his hands could reach me. My heart hurt and I did not want anyone to touch me.   
“Don’t touch me. Please.” my voice cracked as I spoke.   
“We need to get you home, Alex.” Rian was starting to get really worried, I could tell, even in my messed up state.   
“No. Leave me alone.” I stated firmly.  
“Alex-”  
“LEAVE ME ALONE.” I shouted. I never shout at people, so it was no surprise that Rian was taken aback and did not try to stop me right away as I stormed off.   
I legs took me to the middle of the street and collapsed. I knew very well what I was doing. I wanted to be dead. Shit, I wanted to be dead hours ago when I found out. But I really wanted to be dead now. 

I don’t know how Rian managed to drag me out of the street before any cars came, but he did, and I hear I put up quite the fight. I don’t remember much, but I remember Rian crying and calling me an idiot and that he couldn’t believe me. I don’t think he knew I had purposely chosen the street to lay in, because he never mentioned it as a suicide attempt, but I was quite okay with just going with the fact that I was in a bad state and had no idea what I was doing.  
\--  
Rian spends the rest of the day with me, and I end up lightening up after a while, and even mustering out a few jokes and a laugh with him. I am actually trying to feel better, for Rian’s sake. I do not like seeing Rian upset, he has been for the past few years that I’ve been destroying myself slowly. He is always trying to hook me up with new people, and putting so much effort into my recovery process, but I always push his ideas down. Jack was, and is, my one and only. I refuse to even look at any guys anymore. It was annoying as hell whenever Rian introduced me to new people, but I appreciate him. I am lucky to have someone.   
When we reach my house again after a night at the bar, (Which was absolutely pointless because Rian refused to let me have anything more intense than a coffee), I try to bid Rian a farewell, but he shakes his head.   
“I’m staying over because I don’t trust you to stay sober by yourself.” Rian states.   
Fair enough. I have to admit, I probably wouldn’t trust myself either, especially because I know I’m not trying to be sober. Rian is forcing it onto me, and I think Rian knows this, too.   
“Well, come on in then.” I open the door for him, knowing I can’t get away from him even if I try. “The couch is yours.”   
Rian looks at me when I shut the door and lock it. He’s standing right in front of me and I nearly walk right into him because I don’t see him at first.  
“Promise me you won’t drink tonight?” I could have predicted this question, and I can’t help but let out a soft sigh of frustration when he asks it.  
“I don’t know if I could have promised you that if I had a stash in my room,” I begin with another sigh, “but I am all out of booze, so it looks like you have yourself a promise.” I give him quite possibly the weakest grin to ever appear on my face before turning away to head upstairs.  
“Thank you, Lex. I know you hate me now, but someday you’ll thank me.” Rian calls after me.  
I try to smile when I turn to look at him again, but this whole ‘someday you’ll thank me’ bullshit makes me so mad. It’s not true. I really don’t want to extend the pathetic life I’m living, it just isn’t very enjoyable. I’m addicted to alcohol, I’m always crying, my heart always hurts terribly, and I just have no motivation to do much of anything. I’m like a dying dog-- just put me down already.  
I just look at Rian, unable to smile. I bid him a good night in the happiest tone I can muster before I return to my room.   
I can’t bring myself to shower, so I strip myself and rub a towel over the sweat that had developed throughout the day. After throwing on boxers, I give myself a good look in the mirror, and I start to feel tears well in my eyes. I am no longer the Alex I was two years ago. Instead, in front of me, is a disguisting alcoholic. This boy has greasy hair that looks like it never knew a shower, unshaven stubble on his chin, and to top it off, a nice beer belly. I know I’ve gained at least 30 pounds.   
“I’m sorry, Jack.” I whisper softly as I bring my hand to the mirror. “I’m not pretty like I used to be.” I let my head hang so I have no view of the door. I forgot to close it before, so it takes me by surprise when I hear a voice emerge from it.  
“No, you’re not the Alex Jack fell in love with.”  
I spin around, knowing who it is immediately. My body shakes with anger as our eyes meet, and I resist the urge to punch the man in the face. It is none other than Kellin-- Jack’s horrible, disgusting ex.


End file.
